Undefiled Sin
by Kyndred
Summary: (AU) Japan's Heian Era - A young priest, the prodigy of the Imperial Court, is murdered by his rivals in cold blood. A sinister plot. A thirst for revenge. A conviction to sell one's mortal soul, and a demon that will do anything to obtain it. The pieces are in place. Let the game begin... (CHAPTER 3 POSTED! Sorry for the confusion earlier!)(Sebastian x Ciel)
1. Bind Me

**Undefiled Sin**

**Chapter 1**

* * *

In the dead of night, no one saw the murder take place. Although all of nature slumbered in silence, no one heard the young boy's screams. Over and over, knives stabbed into his flesh until blood soaked his clothes and dyed the stone of the courtyard a savage crimson. The poor, naive, creature had walked right into a trap. Although he possessed an incredible amount of spiritual power, he hadn't sensed the predators until it was too late. The men jumped at him like rabid bloodhounds, their teeth shining in the moonlight as they smiled with malice. At first, he tried to fight. A valiant effort for one so small. He cursed and threatened; growled and scratched; bit and kicked. Valiant, indeed - but, futile. In the end, all he could do was scream in pain.

"I'll kill you! All of you! Damn you to hell! I'll rip you apart if you touch me!"

The demon had been prepared to walk away from the scene when he felt the vengeful pulsing of the boy's spirit. Perhaps it was the particular flavor of his threats that gave the him pause. He didn't beg for mercy - didn't degrade himself by calling out for help. The frail boy that he expected to howl like a cornered animal instead chose to fight to his last breath. Such strength was uncommon in his species. Such will gave the soul a divine aroma rarely found in this century. The demon licked his lips. He could already imagine the aftertaste of such a meal and the euphoria that would follow, especially if his soul was spiced with spiritual energy. Amused at the thought, the demon jumped up on a nearby rooftop, his high-heeled boots not making a single sound even on the rough, brown, shingles. Spectacular. He could see everything clearly from this angle.

Below, the boy was subjected to things that other humans would dub horrific. He made a bet, then. If the men left at least a piece of him intact, he would go down and take a closer look. If not, then he would simply walk away and continue searching for something else to pass the time. Perhaps a lovesick maiden would sell her soul for love; then again, the ones with murder and mayhem on their minds tasted much sweeter. He pondered this as the young priest continued to fight for his life. The moon reached its peak in the sky by the time they finally finished with him. Sharp eyes watched the bloodhounds leave their prey. They continued to laugh among themselves as they disappeared around a darkened corner. Taking his time, the demon made his way towards the place where the priest's small, mangled, body lay. His ocean-blue eyes were open, staring in a vague direction. Though his pupils were dilated and his chest unmoving, the demon could hear a faint heart beat. Kneeling down, he whispered to his mind.

_Are you in pain?_

Silence.

_Are you suffering?_

No reply.

_Come now, speak. Or have you given up on living?_

Nothing - just the fading beating of a fragile, human, heart._ How boring_ - he thought. And here he'd wasted all this time waiting for this opportunity. Just as he prepared to turn around and continue on his way, he heard a faltering sound.

"I'll...kill...all of them...kill them...kill..."

_But, you are dying. How do you plan on killing anyone? Your body is broken._

"Kill...kill...tear them...burn..." He coughed; a few drops of blood landed on the demon's cheek. A forked tongue darted out and lapped up the fluid. The shadow hissed. The taste...oh the taste! He'd been right about this boy. His soul was ripe for the picking. Its spiritual energy alone would give him immense power. Invigorated now, he pressed on.

_What if I told you that I could help you find your vengeance?_

"Demon..." the young priest sputtered with obvious disgust.

_Yes._

"Evil..."

_Yes._

"Hurts..."

_Let me ease your pain._

"Don't..." he protested when the demon tried to numb his senses. With halting movements, he raised his head and tried to look down at his ravaged body. What he saw must have terrified him, for his breathing halted. "Bas...tards...hate...them..."

_Yes. That's right. Hate. Can you feel it tugging at your soul? Can you feel how it keeps you alive although you should be dead? I want that hatred, priest. I want to fulfill your desires._

Focusing on taking a more tangible form, the demon withdrew some of the shadows surrounding his body. His skin lightened from a pitch black to a pale white. A bewitching human face appeared from the swirling shade. Long-fingered and delicate hands with nails as black as soot soon followed. Slitted, ruby eyes glowed with the demon's excitement. Just a little more. The boy just needed one more push and he would be his.

_I want to help you. Take me. Use me as you wish. I will not stop until your enemies are eradicated._

"How?"

_The price is steep, but the rewards will be worth the suffering._

"My...soul..."

_Indeed. Imagine how your enemies will tremble before you. Imagine how those who have wronged you will beg for mercy. Don't you want to see that? Don't you want to make them experience the pain they've unjustly bestowed upon you?_

"Yes...kill them..."

_Then call me to you and we shall have a contract. State your terms._

When the boy struggled to speak, the demon reached into his body and mended his bruised throat.

_Say it._

"You will become my...sword. You will never bet...ray me, lie to me, hurt me, or leave me. You will...safeguard my life and obey my commands. Until my revenge is carried out, you will be bound to me. Afterwards, you may...do as you wish...with my immortal soul."

_Very good. Let us seal our bond, then, little priest._

Shadowed fingers reached out, sinking deep into one of the boy's eye sockets. Without the demon's assistance, he didn't even have enough strength to scream in agony. Holding up his other hand, the shadow watched his true name appear on the back of his hand surrounded by the sign of binding. The same symbol burned itself into his new master's eye. Carefully - with a gentleness uncharacteristic of a monster - the demon withdrew his claws and brushed a few strands of blue-grey hair away from the priest's face. With a crooked, lustful, smile of pure anticipation, the demon leaned forward and covered the boy's lips with his own. He tasted divinely sweet - like blood, raw power, and purity combined.

"Call my name," the demon murmured heatedly against his master's lips.

"Name...?" he asked, confused.

"Name me, so that I might serve you and always hear your call." Drunk on the heady scent of hovering death and the thrill of the feast to come, the demon lapped at the edges of the young priest's wounds, healing them and heightening his own ecstasy. Whether from the pain or from the pleasure of the devil's sinister embrace, the boy moaned raggedly, a name tumbling from his trembling lips:

"Se...Sebastian..."

* * *

**OOOO**


	2. Frighten Me

**Undefiled Sin**

**Chapter 2**

* * *

"Sebastian."

"Yes, my Master?"

"Do something about those eyes. Their color sickens me." In response to his young priest's request, the simply dressed man behind him smiled slyly, his crimson orbs twinkling with amusement. _At last_ the priest addressed him directly. In the past two weeks since the fateful night of their contract, he'd given him orders without calling his name. He made his disapproval of his new companion clear from the start. Not that the immortal needed any explanations of his human's behavior or motives. Sebastian could distinctly feel each delicate emotion in his priest's soul as though it was his own. The second hand experience of human pain and sentiment was one of his favorite aspects of forming a contract.

"You don't like red, my Master? What color would you like them to be, then? Shall they be violet, like the Lavender in the Imperial Gardens? Or perhaps blue, like your own?" Sebastian teased, enjoying the effects that his ever-present mirth produced. Just as he'd hoped, the priest's grip tightened on his walking staff in annoyance.

"I don't care. Just change them." Behind his back, the demon bowed his head. Obsidian-colored, shoulder-length hair shifted as he did so.

"As you wish," he replied obediently. Knowing that his Master couldn't see him, he continued to smile.

_Ciel..._the demon purred with his inner voice, wondering what sort of look his master would give him if he dared to call him with it. He tucked the thought away for another time.

Sebastian followed him down a well-worn mountain path at a lazy pace. As they passed a heavy cover of pine trees, the branches shielded them from the sun. In the span of the few seconds that they spent in the shade, the demon's irises flickered. When next he stepped into the sunlight, his eyes were the color of rich, brown, earth. Sebastian pondered the priest's request, wondering if red stirred up things best forgotten. Shame, for the demon wanted to be sure he never forgot the cause of his fear. Before him, the boy suddenly stumbled, nearly losing his footing on a particularly steep part of the path. Without missing a beat, Sebastian supported him at the elbow.

"Are you alright, my Master?" He inquired, watching a drop of sweat roll down the side of the human's pale face. Instead of responding, the boy jerked his arm away.

"Don't touch me. I'm fine."

"At least allow me to completely heal your wounds." To this, the priest said nothing. He regained his balance and continued walking as though he didn't hear his request. _Stubborn child_ - the demon thought. Although the situation should have been a source of annoyance for him, he found everything rather entertaining. Catering to his new master's pride for the past few weeks had pleased him. As a priest, the demon expected the boy to be reserved, shy, and hesitant when expressing his wishes. To his surprise, the opposite was true. He possessed a strong character and showed no reservations when commanding him to fulfill his whims.

_More_ - he demanded at his core. _Be more prideful, more selfish, more cruel. The greater the sin, the better the taste of the soul that is drowned in it._

"We are almost there," his master's voice cut into his musings. "This area is a place of purity. I want you to stay away from me while I work. Is that understood?"

"As you wish." In less than an hour, they finally reached the top of the mountain. Here, humans had erected a shrine to a deity his Master called Hachiman, ruler of war. Interesting concept, religion. The humans of this country seemed more connected to the mystical workings around them than other mortals he'd encountered in his travels. Most of their actions and choices stemmed from what they called "knowledge" of these forces. Despite the fact that the demon thought their theories and ideas were ridiculous, he found himself curious to learn more about the Shinto religion itself. The information could prove useful, especially to someone like him. Though powerless against him personally, the Shinto rules, spells, and rituals governed other powers and entities in this region. After he devoured this priest, he planned to stay in this fertile land for at least another century. The hunt was exciting here.

As they approached the shrine's courtyard, a fellow priest with broad shoulders and a large stomach came running up to greet them. "Welcome, Master Ciel!" he panted and wiped the perspiration off his bald head self-consciously. "I heard you'd been injured recently. In light of that, I thought that perhaps - "

"This ceremony is a part of my duty, Master Yuki," the young priest interjected, his back straight as an arrow.

"Even so, I'm sure that the Mikado would have chosen another to perform the ceremony if he knew you were hurt." His gaze flickered to the thick, white, bandages covering one of the boy's eyes.

"The Mikado doesn't know?" the young priest asked, suddenly curious. Yuki shook his head. A pause. His Master looked thoughtful. The large man waited for him to continue with an explanation, but when none was forthcoming, he gestured towards the shrine in invitation. Sebastian examined the intricate construction, taking in the fine craftsmanship of carved, wooden walls, chiseled stone, and polished floors. The complex was immaculate.

"Everything is prepared, Master Ciel. Please follow me." Yuki glanced briefly at Sebastian. Though, out of politeness, he did not ask about him, the demon could clearly make out the curiosity in the human's look. His Master also seemed to pick up on the confusion in the man's eyes.

"This is my retainer," he declared. Yuki bowed respectfully. Neither he nor Sebastian failed to notice the boy's omission of his name. No surprise, really. What priest would advertise the fact that he'd sold his soul to the very thing he worked to exterminate? Although the demon wore a mortal mask, asking too many questions could still lead someone to discover his true identity. "Let us proceed." Ciel looked back and gave him a solid, threatening, glare. "Stay here."

Sebastian bowed and leaned his side against a nearby tree. While he waited, he worked to straighten the odd garments that he wore - a set of coal black robes and pants called a kimono and hakama. Clothes felt so confining. He preferred to remain incorporeal. Binding himself to a single form set many limitations that he didn't particularly enjoy. Watching the two priests disappear through a set of ornate, wooden gates, Sebastian had to admit that a mysterious aura permeated this place. Each stone and tree seemed to hum and resonate with its own energy.

Before their departure, the boy revealed that he was scheduled to perform a routine purification at this shrine. Sebastian had hoped to catch a glimpse of the ceremony itself, but it seemed that the priest didn't trust him enough to include him in everything he did. By the same token, the demon held no trust in the boy's judgement or survival instincts. Having seen how he walked naively into an obvious trap set by his human assailants, he believed that the boy had been born with a deficiency of common sense. That simply wouldn't do. If he died before his time, Sebastian would lose his soul. Fortunately, it seemed that Ciel did not yet entirely understand how their contract worked. The command he'd given hadn't been delivered through their "bond" - the symbol that appeared on his hand and inside the priest's eye, thus leaving just enough room for a loop hole. Keeping this in mind, Sebastian merged with the shadows around him and followed his young master inside against his wishes. The last thing he needed was for someone to finish what they'd started on that night. If he stayed hidden, all would be well.

The demon allowed the faint breeze to move him through the gates, walls, and doors of the shrine until he caught sight of his prey. Ciel knelt in the middle of a room with shining wooden floors and a high ceiling. In his hands, he shifted a string of jade beads rhythmically. A smooth, light, voice chanted what he assumed to be prayers in a mystical language. Sebastian settled in one of the room's corners and watched his priest work in silence, pleased that he could see him in this undisturbed light. That the other five priests in the room couldn't sense his presence interested him. Was it because he wasn't native to the dark entities of this country? Did humans with spiritual powers only sense energies that they were used to? Mysterious, indeed. This thought, too, he put aside for another time.

For the moment, he allowed himself to listen to his master's singing and chanting. Somehow, it felt soothing. Odd, that, for this was supposed to be a purification ceremony to diffuse evil energy. Sebastian looked down at his body and saw no damage. Just as he began to analyze this, he saw Ciel stand up. He picked up a rod with a set of golden bells attached to it. The surrounding priests withdrew a series of what he assumed to be musical instruments. He made a mental note to ask his master about them later. To someone who had never heard such music before, the song sounded off-beat and strange. Yet, his master's movements flowed naturally. The process appeared simple, but if one looked closer, the steps were intricate.

Sebastian watched his Master dance with dispassionate eyes. Even after three hundred or some odd years, humans intrigued him. So many facets existed in both their nature and their culture. He'd lost count of the number of souls that had passed through him. Devouring those souls was the only way a demon could bear the endless monotony of eternal life. Only through their prey did the immortals experience anything worth living for. As he followed his Master's complex turns and twists, he felt a rush of greedy anticipation. He could only imagine how much delicious experience and knowledge this boy would give him.

The bells on the rod tinkled pleasantly. Though Ciel's face remained a perfect picture of apathy, Sebastian knew what it cost him to stay standing. Just as he knew that the source of his strength was his infallibly strong will. At last, the drumming of the song came to a halt. Breathing heavily, Ciel remained sitting on the ground in the last pose of his routine for a moment before lowering his instruments and resuming his prayer.

* * *

**OOOOO**

* * *

"Master Ciel, you're bleeding," one of the temple assistants proclaimed as the priest stepped out of the shrine hall onto a raised veranda. With wide eyes, he pointed to a spot of scarlet blooming on the side of the boy's pure white kimono. Not surprising. Every movement he made felt as though it threatened to tear open his cuts. No matter how carefully he tried to step, his wounds pulled and stretched, straining against the stitches in his skin.

"It's nothing," Ciel replied, noting that the assistant wasn't much older than he was.

_So, this is a normal person my age..._

"Would you like to rest? I will call Master Yuki to treat you." Ciel barely caught him before he ran off, wincing at the sharp movement.

"No, it's alright. I will leave, now," he insisted. The assistant looked between Ciel's face and the spot of blood on his robes dubiously. He knew better than to question the words of a high ranking priest, however, and bowed in deference to his wishes.

"Please, Master Ciel. The path down the mountain is too dangerous to navigate alone with such an injury."

"He won't be alone," a voice assured behind them. Both of them turned to see a black-clad man leaning against the doorway. Sunlight filtered between the tall posts of the shrine's veranda. The glow settled like dust upon the unblemished skin of his face. His eyes reflected this, the brown color enriched by the speckles of gold. Ciel frowned when he saw a blush rise to the assistant's face in response to the demon's entrancing features.

"I thought I told you to stay at the gates," Ciel chided irritably. Seeing the demon again brought up unwanted memories. If it was possible, he would have ordered him away entirely.

"Forgive me, my Master, but your safety is my primary concern," he quipped. The assistant smiled in response to his words. The fool most likely interpreted his actions as an act of kindness, but Ciel knew better. He easily heard how the demon's voice dripped with viscous sarcasm. By contract, he could never lie; he truly was concerned. Not for the priest's well-being, but for his soul. The boy suppressed a shudder of revulsion.

"Hello," the assistant said lamely, still blushing. "Master Ciel, who is this?"

"Nobody," was the priest's deadpan response. He ignored the assistant's frown and turned to walk away, motioning for Sebastian to follow. "Please tell Master Yuki that he is free to call on me at any time if he should need my help." If the young man said anything, Ciel did not hear him. The thought of someone else seeing Sebastian made him uneasy. All those who saw him followed him with eyes full of questioning. Did they suspect? Did they know? Could they see his shame? Bargaining with a demon, using his soul as currency, wishing to inflict harm upon others - all were signs that he was not fit to be a priest. This realization dismayed him. He'd dragged himself out of bed today to perform the ceremony out of duty. But, he also feared that the contract had drained him of all his spiritual power and wanted to see for himself if he'd damned his future in his moment of weakness.

He felt tainted, filthy, and stained...all he had left now was his mantle of pride.

Everything - that was what it took him to walk straight on the path down the mountain. Somehow, going down felt harder than the climb upwards. While he'd been afraid that he would fail the ritual, he'd also harbored a desperate hope that the demon would leave once the ceremony was completed. A hope that had been dashed all too quickly. The creature he'd carelessly named Sebastian walked calmly behind him without a care in the world. A self-satisfied grin constantly hovered over his lips and grated on his nerves. What was so funny? What was he laughing at? Was it truly so humorous to watch him struggle?

_Damn him..._

His mind raced with questions. Somehow, during the beginning of the day, he'd been able to keep a clear head. The ceremony took precedence. But, now that his duty lay behind him, darker thoughts poured out of all the crevices he'd forced them into earlier. Already, he knew that his murder was no accident. The men who'd attacked him and defiled him had not been simple criminals. As the Mikado's favorite, Ciel held a tenuous position within the Court. When the Emperor's high priests nominated him to be next in line for Guji, a temple head priest, things had only gotten worse. The fact that he was the youngest in history to attain such an honor complicated the situation even more. Ciel was ambitious; his ultimate goal was to become a full fledged Onmyoji and apprentice under the great Abe no Seimei. Unfortunately, his enemies held just as much conviction to make sure that he never did so.

_But, who? Who killed me?_ - Over and over again he asked himself the same thing. In time, his enemies would reveal themselves. He just needed to -

His left leg went numb. With a cry of surprise, he fell forward and flinched. Nothing. No impact. No pain save for the pulling of the cut on his side. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes. Confused blue met unyielding garnet. Sebastian held him firmly against his chest, his lips set in a hard line. Ciel tried to catch his breath. Suddenly, there didn't seem to be enough air around him.

"Are you alright, my Master?" Against his ear, the demon's chest reverberated with his voice. His pale skin felt hot, reminding him of the power that lay beneath the illusion of humanity. Char black nails had elongated into sharpened claws, a few of them grazing against his ankle. Alarmed, Ciel struggled in his hold.

"Take your hands off me, demon."

"Sebastian..."

"What?" Ciel asked breathlessly.

"When you give me an order, you should say my name, my Master." The audacity of that statement made him grit his teeth. How was it that he could stay so composed in front of others when in the face of this creature his emotions ran amok? The demon's sensual lips moved, but no words emerged. Instead, the priest felt himself getting lighter until his vision blurred. Fear gripped him in response to his helplessness. Would he break their contract? Would he take his soul now that he was vulnerable?

_No, not yet. I haven't obtained my revenge yet. He won't break his word. _

Those horrible, slanted, eyes bore into his chest mercilessly, heartlessly. Red - like blood, like life, like his memories.

_Beautiful..._

* * *

**OOOOOO**

* * *

**To be continued...**


	3. Protect Me

I apologize about the odd update earlier. I was in the middle of editing and accidentally deleted the second chapter. When I re-posted it, the system pushed the story up to the top of the list.

I haven't heard from many of you, but I hope you guys are enjoying the read :)

And, without further ado:

* * *

**Undefiled Sin**

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Ciel awakened to the stench of burning flesh.

Roaring flames the color of phoenix feathers sank their fiery talons into the wood, stone, and bamboo of the house. Bodies lay strewn upon the ground in a chaotic pattern – empty, soulless, mutilated. He could only guess at their identities, for their skin was melted away along with their faces. A flood of garnet blood soaked the walls and floors, the sticky liquid boiling in the raging heat. The inferno gave birth to billows of tar black smoke, filling the air with caustic poison.

The scene quickly pulled him from the dredges of sleep and exhaustion into a waking nightmare. At last, facts stabbed into the murkiness of understanding with unerring accuracy. These were his _home_, his _room_, and his _servants_! His mouth opened to accommodate a scream of denial when something covered his lips - a pale, clawed hand. Someone held him aloft; his feet dangled uselessly. Panicking, he struggled to get free.

"Be still, my Master. The intruders have not left yet." Through the deafening torrent of splitting wood, collapsing foundations, and crumbling paper, he heard the command as clearly as he would have in an environment of total silence. The low voice had whispered the words right against his ear - a voice he recognized immediately.

"_Sebastian?"_ he tried to ascertain. The hand muffled the sound with ease. Instead of a response, he heard a low chuckle in the same place - so close to his ear that the puffs of air disturbed the fine hair resting against his cheek. He looked down and saw that he still wore his sleeping yukata; the white robes were stained in various places with black soot. From what he could immediately see, they were hiding in a space between the storage closet and the guest room. Only a sliding door provided a thin barrier between them and the blaze. The rice paper on it was already burning away. Yet, oddly, he did not feel pain.

Though the hellfire should have been close enough to burn at his skin, it stayed just out of reach. Though the smoke should have clogged his lungs and forced him to cough, it stayed just far enough back to allow him to breathe normally. Was this the demon's power? He finally looked up to gauge his reaction to this pandemonium. Sebastian seemed distracted. His eyes focused on something just outside the door. The flames reflected perfectly within the depths of his red eyes. Though he wore the mask of a human, he looked right at home among the violent golds and oranges. As though he felt Ciel's eyes upon him, he glanced downwards. His lips quirked up in a smirk before he turned away again.

Ciel did the same. The sliding door to the closet was opened just enough to allow him to see a part of the spacious guest room. He tried to look for movement, but couldn't see anything past the smoke and fire. Sebastian had mentioned intruders. Who? Had someone started the fire? Squinting to see more detail, he made out some of the victims' clothing. At first, he'd thought that the bodies all belonged to servants, but upon closer inspection, he saw that he'd been mistaken. Judging by their clothing, some of them were temple assistants. One of the bodies looked vaguely familiar. Though mostly burned away, he could tell that the clothes were those of a high ranking priest. After a moment, his eyes widened. He jerked away from Sebastian's grip; the sudden movement must have surprised his companion for he managed to wriggle free of one of his arms and shout:

"Yuki! Master Yuki!" He pulled one hand free and reached for the door. The bald head, now shriveled and pink; the jade prayer beads, now glistening with blood and condensed steam; the shining talisman of Amaterasu, now burning as bright as a brand in a lifeless palm – all were evidence that the man he'd seen just a short while ago had died a most horrible death. "Master Yuki!" the priest shouted hoarsely a split second before Sebastian's hand covered his mouth again. He tried to push away from the steel grip when the pain finally caught up to him. Everything slammed into him at once – the agony of his still healing injuries and the memories of the past few days. He shuddered. A series of loud, sharp, bangs resounded on the ceiling. Footsteps, he realized.

"Stay quiet now, my Master. They will not notice us here," Sebastian assured. His large hand covered his mouth and nose, making it difficult to breathe. Panic made this worse. The supposed intruders barreled down the stairs with all the grace of rampaging bulls. Their clumsy movements triggered the collapse of even more of the ceiling. He heard shouts of panic.

"Let's get out of here!"

"We have to make sure he's dead!"

"If we stay any longer, _we'll_ be dead!"

Ciel tried once again to pry off Sebastian's hand. His lungs screamed for air; his heart pounded wild hooves against his ear drums. The horror of the situation finally sank in. Was everyone dead? The people he'd known for years – the servants who had taken care of him since his birth and the man who had helped him countless times with his teachings and duties – had been brutally murdered. That was _their_ blood plastered on his walls, _their_ skins melting onto his floors, _their_ clothing disintegrating into nothingness!

"Take the chest and get out of here," a burly voice commanded just outside the door. Through the crack, Ciel saw the man's back. His haori was a dark brown; a single symbol was sown into the rough material – a purple snake wrapped around a jade pentacle. An image flashed in his mind's eye. He was forced to relive the worst night of his life, when men with the same symbol on their clothing had cut into his body and sanity. Anger – vile, noxious, fury – hemorrhaged from countless wounds in his heart. Like a tsunami, it engulfed his consciousness, until all he yearned for was death. Not his death. Theirs.

"I can't find the body anywhere," someone else complained from the guest room, then cursed as another piece of the house crashed to the ground. "Come on! I'm not staying here a second longer!" Running footsteps. They were getting away. Those who'd taken everything from him were getting away! This time, when he struggled, he felt no discomfort. When he bit the hand that covered his mouth, he didn't taste blood. He knew nothing except for the single-minded desire to tear those men limb from limb. He could see it clearly in his mind – how he would run them down, then pick up whatever he could use as a weapon and kill them in the most painful way imaginable. If it was wood, he would bludgeon them. If it was metal, he would run them through.

Although he struggled with all the wild ferocity of an animal who knew it was in the last moments of its life, the demon's hold on him remained as unshakable as a mountain in a storm. Behind his hand, Ciel shrieked and cursed, bellowed and threatened. In part, he again remembered his helplessness that night. The realization of his own weakness angered him even more. As he continued to fight his losing battle, the flames and smoke thickened. Even with what he assumed to be Sebastian's power keeping the deadly forces at bay, he began to cough. Above him, the demon muttered something he couldn't quite make out. At last, when the priest's sight began to blur, Sebastian stood and kicked down the fragile door. With inhuman speed, he leapt upwards and broke through the crumbling ceiling into the dark night.

Ciel grabbed onto the front of his companion's kimono and coughed violently as fresh air finally surrounded him. The demon chose a nearby pine tree bough as his landing spot. The young priest pounded his fist against Sebastian's chest with as much force as he could.

"You bastard! You let them burn everything!" he accused hoarsely between harsh coughs. "Why didn't you kill them?!"

"Your safety is my primary concern, my Master," the demon replied smoothly. "Had I attended to those men first, your life would have been compromised."

"You're lying…you're lying…" he ground out.

"That is impossible, my Master. I do not lie." Though Ciel wanted to weep, to mourn the loss of so many innocent lives, no tears came. He stopped fighting against the demon's grip. Hope for normality – a thing he hadn't even been aware of – drew its final, desperate, breath and withered away. He went as limp as a rag doll in Sebastian's arms, his head turning sideways to watch the final moments of his former life burn into oblivion. He remembered his trip to the mountain temple the day before – how he'd been ashamed of anyone seeing the unnatural being at his side. He remembered his own guilt and regret for submitting to weakness.

What _guilt_?

What _regret_?

What _weakness_?

Nothing remained.

Only an incessant thirst – a mania for the blood, pain, suffering, and annihilation of those who had murdered him and killed those he cared about. It didn't matter how he achieved this, or what kind of price he had to pay. For a brief, glimmering, moment he had thought that he could find the path to his pure teachings once more. But, with this…_with this final push_…he knew he would _never_ be the same.

"Perhaps we should leave this area," the demon proposed. His voice sounded far away. In his bubble of grief, Ciel barely heard him. When the young priest didn't reply, Sebastian called to him. "Are you alright?" He didn't feel like he was. His body ached everywhere; his heart hurt even more. "We should find a safer place - "

"No," the boy countered, his voice devoid of any and all feeling. "Don't move. I want to watch it burn. I want to stay until the end."

"As you wish." Together, demon and child observed the fire consume the small house. They watched the walls dissolve into cinders along with all the mangled bodies within. By the time the flames died out, the sun peeked over the horizon. The flaming orb stained the land a brutal red, as though the sun goddess Amaterasu herself was painting a tribute to all the blood spilled in the name of human savagery while she slept. Ciel would forever remember that sunrise as both the end of his childhood and the birth of a life dedicated in a single-minded pursuit of justice.

"Sebastian," he murmured.

"Yes, my Master?" The young priest reached up and touched the demon's cheek. Slowly, he guided his face downwards until their gazes met. No smirk – no amusement reflected on his ethereal features. He looked empty, much like Ciel felt.

"Your eyes…"

"My apologies. I will change the color - "

"No." The demon raised a brow. Ciel brushed soft, silky bangs away from his companion's face. In that moment, Sebastian's eyes reminded him of brilliant mirrors. They reflected everything with stark perfection. Within, he saw himself contrasted against the morning sky and wondered just how far into his soul the demon could see. "Red. Like they are now," Ciel dictated. "Never change them again."

"I was under the impression that…"

"Red," the boy repeated firmly. "When I look into your eyes, I want to remember."

"Remember what, My Master?"

"Why I'm alive…" The demon inclined his head.

"Where shall we go now?" he inquired.

The boy shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"We need shelter, first."

"We can't stay in the city." For now, he would allow his enemies to assume that he'd perished. "How fast can you travel?" In response to this question, Sebastian smiled.

"Allow me to show you, My Master."

* * *

**OOOOOOO**

* * *

In a room shrouded by curtains and screens, a lone figure sat upon an ornately decorated, wooden, chair. Its feet were shaped like the talons of a hawk. The back was tall, much taller than an average chair. Next to it stood a table with the same theme of decoration. The figure reached over and pulled a smoking pipe from the surface of the table. Even in the darkness, the grey stream of smoke from the burning tobacco was visible.

"Is it done?" a voice asked, its owner taking a deep breath from the pipe before releasing a long puff of smoke from its mouth. Before this figure's throne, another figure knelt. Its posture was so subservient that its head touched the ground.

"As you ordered, My Lord. Everything is destroyed. The boy is dead."

"And the priest?"

"Burned in the fire."

"Excellent. Then you know what you must do now."

"Take the letter you gave me and deliver it to the Mikado?" The figure on the throne nodded. In the dim light, its long, jet black, hair shifted to accommodate the movement.

"Yes. By morning, the Imperial Court will have all the evidence they need to see that the boy has committed mass murder and burned down his home in a fit of madness. The Phantomhive family will be disgraced, and I will be free to regain the Mikado's favor."

"My Lord, may I speak freely?"

"You may."

"Why the Phantomhives?"

"_Foreigners_," the figure on the throne spat. "They never belonged in this country. When the Emperor let them into the city, he tainted _all of us_. As if that wasn't enough, their child was conceited enough to think himself above us. A _foreigner_ become the Mikado's favorite? A _foreigner_ become a Head Priest at the age of thirteen?" A fist slammed onto one of the chair's arm rests. "Never! Not while my family is here to put an end to it!" After a moment of silence, the figure on the floor spoke again.

"So, this was just to regain the Emperor's favor?" A beat.

"No. But, for now, that is all you need to know."

"Then, My Lord, I will go and deliver this letter at once."

"Do so and remember – should word get out of anything that you've heard here today, I will know who was the source of the information."

"Understood." With a flourish, the servant stood up and walked out the door. As he opened the door, a strip of moonlight passed over his face, illuminating a pair of different colored eyes – one green and one violet.

* * *

**OOOOOO**

* * *

To be continued...


End file.
